Accidentally on Purpose

Chapter Four

He then reached down to get something under his desk. Turned out that it was the said doll itself, all in its ugly glory.

"You and your partner can discuss about the schedule of taking care of it—maybe you can have daily shifts, or maybe weekly, or maybe you can switch to take care of it every few days, it's up to you. But each one of you have to take care of the baby at some point, because every week you will write up the summary of the progress.

"Taking care of the fake-baby will undoubtedly be annoying. It will cry every few while, and it will always demand your attention. It might cry during midnight and disturb everyone in the house—that's why I need your parents' permission. You also have to be very thoroughly responsible; you need to have the baby with you at all times, feed and change its diaper every few hours, and rock them to sleep. If you take good care of it, it may cry less. Though, during school, you should bring the baby to me or other life skill teachers to turn on the daycare function so it won't go off during your classes."

And then his eyes lit up mischievously.

"Though, this semester I'm adding a little bit spice to the recipe," he added. "You won't only be taking care of the fake-baby. Heck, taking care of it won't even start in a few weeks or maybe months. You and your partner are going to have a full experience in starting a family."

I propped my elbows on the table and put my chin on my open palms, listening intently at Mr. Herberg now in full interest. I noticed that most of the kids had gotten interested as well, because from what we'd heard, the previous years the seniors were only required to just take care of the baby for a few months.

"Further information will be announced tomorrow, as we're running out of time to start with the lesson. You should be able to return the permission slip to me tomorrow, and after that, we're gonna start with pairing you guys up."

I quietly groaned in disappointment, because just as things were getting interesting, Mr. Herberg had to cut it off.

Our teacher sat down at his desk, typing at his laptop before a PowerPoint slideshow was projected to the whiteboard. "Now, get your textbook as well as your notebook ready. There are some things that you should take notes on."

I pulled out my books from my bag, and paused when I felt my hand touching my pencil case. After thinking for a while, a smile began to crept up on my face and I dropped the case from my grip, and sat up with only my books.

"Hey," I whispered to Jonah who had just dropped his books on his desk.

He clearly heard me, because he paused in his movement, but he didn't turn his head toward me.

So I repeated, "Psst, hey."

Silence.

I clicked my tongue, glanced up front to see if Mr. Herberg noticed me, and then repeated again, "Hey, did you hear me?"

When he was still pretending not to hear me after my fifth attempt, I reached out and tapped on his desk, and he finally groaned. "What?" he whisper-hissed, turning his head to me.

I held in my grin. "Do you have any spare pen or pencil? I think I left mine inside my locker."

He just stared at me, his eyes narrowing.

So I tried to elaborate, "You know... those utensils that you use to write something down on a paper?"

"No," he said curtly, looking away to focus on Mr. Herberg's slideshow.

I scoffed and called him bluff, "I saw your pencil case. It looked pretty heavy, I'm sure you have some spare I can borrow."

He glanced at me again, seeing how I was looking pointedly at his own pencil case on his desk, and then scowled.

"Come on. What's the harm in lending me a pen?" I cooed lowly, trying not to catch Mr. Herberg's attention.

"Hannah Taylors, shut up," he murmured warningly, but that did nothing to calm down my eager heart.

He actually got my name memorized! He actually knew my name! HE ACTUALLY KNEW MY NAME!

I blinked my feelings away, because I didn't need to abruptly fangirl in front of him. "Please? Can I borrow your pen?"

When he heaved a deep sigh and looked at me, I was giving him one of my infamous puppy dog look. No one, and I meant no one, had been able to resist this look on my eyes. As Gina had stated: my big doe eyes could as well be anyone's weakness.

But he didn't even reacted. He kept glowering at me. "One more time you open that mouth, and I swear..."

"Pleeease?" I pouted.

"I swear to God—"

"Is there any problem back there Mr. and Miss..." Mr. Herberg trailed off because he didn't know our names.

I glanced at Jonah, who was glaring, and then diverted my eyes to the teacher. "I was just, uh, asking to borrow a pen. I think I lost mine."

The thirty-one year old man sighed, and then simply raised an eyebrow at Jonah.

A grin threatened to break out on my face when Jonah clucked his tongue and practically ripped his pencil case open to get his pen. He handed it out to me stiffly, and I took it gratefully.

"Thanks," I chirped at Jonah, only to be met with another annoyed stare. "And I'm sorry Mr. Herberg. It won't happen again."

"It better not, Miss..."

"Taylors," I finished.

"Miss Taylors," he said with a nod. "Next time, make sure to bring your own."

"Will do, Sir."

"Alright, where were we?" Mr. Herberg continued on, and I sat back in satisfaction, feeling the glare that Jonah Gibbs occasionally sent my way.